Truly, Madly, Deeply
by FraiseDandelion
Summary: OutlawQueen one shots and prompts. Mostly AU. Rating may vary. Enjoy!
1. One Night Stand

A/N: Un-betaed! Enjoy!

* * *

One Night Stand

Regina's been close to heaven, but nothing quite like this. She feels like a whore, and yet she feels so alive, so warm and drunk, oh, so horribly drunk.

But this is perfect, _he_ is perfect, even in his drunk state too.

She's moaning, her palms scratching his rock hard abdomen, and fuck, who the hell cares if they're fucking in a dark alley? Who cares if she's being extremely vocal tonight? —she shouldn't be, not when they can hear drunken laughter a couple of yards away, where the entrance to The Rabbit Hole is— but really, who cares when his rough fingers are pressing firmly against her clit? When his cock is buried deeply inside of her, stretching her like never before. Her butt smacking quickly and repeatedly against the brick-wall behind her, _smack, smack, smack_ the sound present over the alley along with his groans, his deep guttural groans that reverberate against her chest.

He's biting down on an exposed nipple, the one pertaining to the breast he roughly pulled from her bra a few minutes ago and he's licking at it, biting and sucking, eliciting gasps and trembles in response. Regina's rolling her hips against his now, her pencil skirt bunched up around her waist and her thong moved to the side as he plunges into her warmth, as he takes her to heights she's never reached before.

Regina came to this bar to forget about her problems, forget that her ex-fiancé had been cheating on her for over a year and she had only found out a week ago. She met this British man sulking on his own, a drink grasped tightly in his hand as he twirled and twirled the thin straw. Soon enough, conversation spiked between the both of them, and so did the drinks. Then amidst drunken slurs and promises of another round of drinks, their lips had found one another and they'd barely made it out of the bar and towards the alley without ripping their clothes off, their drinks long forgotten.

She came to this bar to forget about her problems, yet the scars are still so new, the alcohol still unable to dull the pain to it's entirety—

Oh, this man, this man inside of her and around her possesses the skill of a professional fucker —if there's such a thing, because God, he's pushing her meaty thighs further apart, opening her completely to him, pressing her further into the wall the moment he sees her eyes tear up. Then he plunges into her aching center with more force than ever, intent on making her forget about her issues, just like she's doing with _his_.

Regina needs to come, needs to come around that thick cock of his right now, needs to fulfill the desire that plagued her the moment her brown orbs met his bright blue ones earlier that night.

"Come for me baby," he growls, his lips latching to her neck, biting and licking.

He shouldn't be calling her by that nickname _,_ especially since he met her a mere two hours ago and, amongst drinks, had explained how he was going to _fuck_ her, make her _come, come, come_ apart in his arms by just a flicker of his tongue —and he did, she recalls, he did in fact make her come minutes ago with that tongue.

But anyways, the nickname is doing things to her, it's making the coil in her stomach grow and tighten.

Thank God he doesn't even know her name because _shit_ , Regina doesn't think she can handle hearing her name rolling off of his lips, would've reached her peak several times already had he utter it with that deep accent of his as his hands roamed here, there, _everywhere_.

 _Damn it_ , she's almost there, his hard cock caressing her walls just so, hitting that same spot over and over again.

Regina arches her back the moment he plunges into her with more force, the movement pushing her nipple straight into his awaiting mouth again as her body curls up towards him. He hungrily lavishes it, bites, licks, teases, his tastebuds already addicted to her succulent skin, and he just fucks her a little harder.

"Baby, I'm gonna come," he groans the moment she moans and rests her head against the wall behind her, her eyes starring up at the dark sky.

And no, he shouldn't arrive inside of her, not when he's not wearing a damn condom, not when she doesn't even know his goddamn name, but he's fucking her so good, he's whispering so many things against her pebbled nipple and she's not thinking clear.

He's pushing into her now with quick sharp thrusts, releases her nipple from his warm mouth only to kiss her in a searing kiss as his cock starts throbbing inside of her, her walls start clamping around him like a vice and—

 _God_

She's seeing dancing daffodils, fairy dust and whatever other magical shit she can think of.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans and she moans in response, her body still riding out that wonderful orgasm, caressing his cock with every tighten and release of her muscles. He quickly loses his rhythm and followed her over the precipice, growling as he spills his seed inside of her, his body shaking against hers until he stops moving altogether with a deep groan.

A couple of minutes go by where there only sound they can hear in the alley is the sound of their own breathing. His hands find themselves wrapping around her and he playfully smacks her behind as he leans in and bites her lower lip.

"Mmmm," she moans against his lips, licking at them as she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him incredibly closer.

"Mmmm, as much as I enjoy you doing that, m'lady, I'm afraid a round two is not in the cards right now."

"Why?" she mewls, her insides warming again at his accent.

"Because the next time I fuck you, it'll be on a bed, properly," he winks at her.

"And what makes you so sure there will be a next time?"

He merely chuckles and playfully sucks on her exposed nipple, releasing it with a pop before replying. "Because you still owe me that drink."

It is then that Regina remembers the drinks they'd left untouched by the bar, the round this man ordered for the both of them minutes before the need to kiss and fuck each other overcame them.

Regina chuckles in response, but in her tipsy state she can feel those small flutters in her stomach, and as this blue eyed beauty pulls out of her and starts tucking himself into his pants, she smiles and with a small blush on her cheeks says, "Yes, I suppose I do."


	2. Can Snow Keep A Secret?

Title: Can Snow Keep a Secret?

Rated: M (like really strong M, ok?)

A/N: I wasn't supposed to write anything for OQSmutWeek because I honestly didn't have time, but then Celina convinced me —by blackmailing me, damn it. So I agreed, almost immediately. This one's for you, Celina and the rest of the TrashGirlz! Enjoy it you dirty dirty dirty gals. Un-betaed! Chapter 1 also counts as Day 3: OQ has sex in public, so give it a read if you want to!

 **Day 3:** OQ has sex in public

* * *

 _Oh God_

 _Oh Lord_

They shouldn't be doing this.

Not here.

 _Anywhere,_ but here.

Not when she can get quite loud during sex. Not when she's vociferous as fuck when her soulmate is fucking her just right.

 _Oh!_ They shouldn't be doing this, especially if _when_ somebody finds them, it would turn into the biggest most kinkiest gossip the whole town would ever hear for years to come.

But God, she doesn't want him to stop.

Will kill him if he does.

So he just continues his movements. His hand pressing tightly against her mouth to try and prevent her moans, yelps, and all sorts of screams of pleasure that come from that beautiful mouth of hers, to be heard all over town. His other hand is tightly grasping her hip as he holds her bunched up dress, holding her in place against the shiny back desk, that same hand aiding him in pulling her to him with every fucking thrust of his hips.

 _God_

Regina should've cast a spell to soundproof her office, should've ignored his " _Where's the fun in that?"_ because, _shit_ , she's biting down on his palm trying so fucking hard not to scream out, hand reaching forward up the length of her desk until it lands at the edge, her knuckles turning white from her grasp. Robin's hand releases his grip on her hip then, traveling higher and higher until it reaches her breast. He pulls and pinches her hard nipple through the fabric of her, oh, suddenly tight dress.

This is heaven and hell combined. His built form hovering over her back, hot pants of breaths caressing her neck, his balls rubbing against her clit with every thrust, fingers pinching her so deliciously.

She's losing control and if there's something Regina appreciates more than anything, is exactly that, her control. So she sucks on his index finger, tongue circling it and rubbing it to the same rhythm of his cock inside her. She's thrusting back against his cock, wanting to drive him as insane as he's driving her, gripping and releasing him slowly with every thrust, her movements slowing down considerably as she enjoys this, enjoys the act of slowly, but surely, making him _hers_ all over again.

He shouts at the maddening change in pace, but moves along with her. Moans at the way her warmth caresses him slowly, toes curling inside his boots as he tries to prevent himself from spilling into her this quick.

He stops moving all together, to enjoy this, enjoy watching his cock disappear into her. But it's driving him closer to the edge, and he wants to enjoy this as much as she's enjoying it, wants to last as long as she wants him to and he won't be able to do so if he just keeps looking at her succulent bottom, at his glistening cock. Both hands now travel immediately to her hips and he pushes her dress just a little bit higher till it's all bunched up on her waist. Robin grips her then, trying to still her movements to no avail.

"Stop," he calls out when Regina slowly pushes her hips towards him, her bare ass now firmly pressed against his lower abdomen, his dick sheathed completely in _her_.

"No," she mewls lowly, her mind intent on driving him mad with pleasure. So she playfully rolls her hips, one, two, three times before she's thrusting back towards him, fucking him back with all her will, consequently driving him mad with her _skills_.

Regina loves this, loves him, loves to feel, hear and _see_ the effect she has on him, makes her feel like quite the expert lover and not to mention that his voice, hearing him reach the edge, just makes her incredibly aroused, sometimes even sending her catapulting over the edge. So yes, she loves to make him a quivering mess while he growls and grabs at any patch of skin he can reach, pulling and gripping tightly, anything to keep him grounded.

She loves every minute spent with him like this, and today is no different.

So for a moment she forgets that they're in her office, forgets that her receptionist is a few yards away from her door, and moans _freely_ , _loudly_ , not giving a flying fuck over who could actually hear them and focuses instead on him throbbing inside her, of her walls fluttering around him.

He mumbles something then, something unintelligible that makes her incredibly hotter. But by the tight grip on her hips, by the straightening of his body, she knows she has _him_ exactly where she _wants him_.

And it's funny really, how he came here pretentious as fuck. Proudly stating " _I brought you a late lunch_ " with a finger pointing at himself, a wicked smile going to his lips as he whispered how he was going to make her _come, come, come_ several times and drive _her_ mad.

Yes, _Robin_ came _here_ to make _her_ a quivering mess, to fulfill one of her biggest most kinkiest dream; but it worked the other way around for _he_ is the one trembling with pleasure, _he_ is the one aching for release, _she_ is driving _him_ absolutely _nuts_.

So she keeps moving her hips, rolling and clenching and getting him higher and higher and just there. She's close too, her breaths coming down in pants, her nails scratching the edge of her new black desk.

It's a give and receive game they play. Robin instantly plunging into her with more force, more depth, quick thrusts that are making her lose control once again, the moment he feels her losing control. He moves faster now, quick sharp thrusts that haver her screaming out, have his thighs slapping firmly and constantly against the back of hers. Her walls clenching with pleasure, his cock twitches as he goes taut with pleasure and and shouts her name as he spills inside her. But he keep pushing relentlessly into her, even when the pleasure is beginning to cloud his brain, but he's intent on taking her there as well. His hand comes down to where they are united as one, middle finger quickly moving rapidly against that tight bundle of nerves as he stops moving altogether and _yes! One more, one more, don't stop, oh just one.._

A noise reverberates around the room, faint and timid like and Robin stops moving his fingers, her body still shaking against him as she mercilessly tries to reach that peak for the third time that day. She's about to, her legs muscles going taut, the muscles tightly coiled on her lower abdomen, she just need one more...

A soft knock comes from just outside her door again and Regina and Robin both stay still now, her walls still fluttering around him, begging for that orgasm that never comes.

"Regina?" Snow's voice rings around the room and Robin quickly pulls from her depths, Regina mewling lowly and legs shaking as she tries to get her pleasure under control, tries to prevent her hand from trailing down and pressing it tightly against herself to finish her fucking self off.

But she can't do that, not when Snow —God damn it, couldn't it have been someone else?— is outside her office wanting God knows what!

So instead she grumbles lowly as Robin pulls at her dress, lowering the hem until it's safely covering her thighs, and lifts her torso from her desk, her legs a wobbly mess that can barely hold her straight but thankfully Robin is there to hold her by the waist.

"I'll make sure to help you finish." He mutters but before she can react, Snow is opening the door to her office and Robin is hiding under her desk, beckoning her to sit down on the desk chair.

She shouldn't do it.

Shouldn't want to do it.

But Snow is calling out her name again through the small opening of the door and she cannot have her see her once pristine straight dress, covered in wrinkles and whatnot. So she shoots daggers at Robin, begging him with her eyes to not do anything reckless. He wickedly smiles in return before she's siting on her desk chair and he's pulling it towards the desk, hiding himself under said desk and Regina's legs.

She looks down on those damn budget reports, the ones on top of which her soulmate just screwed her, and pulls her glasses (which were dangerously close to the edge of the desk) over her nose, pretending to be as regal and unbothered as ever —even though her panties are somewhere over the office, even though her bundle of nerves is praying for attention, throbbing, and hot, her inner thighs damp with her arousal as she crosses her legs tightly to alleviate the pressure, an involuntary moan leaving her lips at the simple movement.

"Regina!" Snow greets her loudly and she doesn't have time to react because Robin is spreading her legs open, hooking his hands under her knees and throwing them over his shoulders, a movement that, thankfully, Snow didn't catch but Regina let out an involuntary gasp. "Oh, I'm sorry I scared you!"

And God, she wishes that Snow had scared her instead of what actually happened. So she plays along, places a hand over her chest and then smiles. Feigns the only way she knows how.

"I've been knocking for several times, though."

Regina simply nods and swallows immediately because Robin's fingers are traveling up her thighs, up and down, up and down, caressing her, rising goosebumps in her skin as he pushes the hem of her dress higher, higher, baring her to him.

She's grateful, oh so damn grateful that she changed her desk into a more private one. One that shields her legs from the wandering eyes of the visitors.

 _Oh_

 _Oh shit_

His lips are ghosting over her inner thighs, licking inwards, up, up, up, coming dangerously close to where she needs him the most and she shuffles in her seat, bring her ass closer to the edge of it as Robin's mouth moves closer now.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh yes," Regina lets out and quickly regrets it because her voice comes out raspy, her chest still rising and falling rapidly with the pleasure that's plaguing her body.

Robin's laugh leaves his mouth in puffs of breaths, nothing audible, but to Regina is pure torture for she feels them ghosting her skin, ghosting over her clit and she lets out a strangled moan, closing her eyes and biting her lower lip, all the while she presses both inner thighs against his cheeks, begging him to stop, telling him without words that she won't be able to handle this.

"You definitely don't sound okay." Snow says, concern written over her face as she moves a little bit closer to her desk.

Regina shakes her head quickly, way too quickly and when she finds her voice she says, "I'm just a little bit tired, that's all," instantly relaxing the moment she realizes that her voice is back.

But she tenses once again the moment she feels his breath hovering over _her_ , softly blowing on her tightly coiled clit, a movement that has her dropping the pen she was holding and closing both fists tightly.

"Regina, you look a bit flushed."

 _Damn it Snow shut up. Can't you see that my true love is getting me off with just a few puffs of air?_

But instead Regina nods and swallows hard.

"I am feeling a bit under the weather," she replies after a moment, voice shaky but thanking her lucky stars that Robin decided to stop teasing her and is simply holding her by the hips. "What brings you here, Snow?" She asks nonchalantly after a moment, offering her a smile.

"Oh nothing, was just wondering if you would like to grab a bite?"

She feels his breathy laughs once again, damns his humor, and shakes her head.

"Thanks, but I'm gonna need a rainchec-"

She stops mid sentence, the last word coming out in a moan, her jaw slacking, her goosebumps rising at the feel of him pressing his tongue firmly against her clit. Moving it up and down, up and down, presses his tongue flat against her entrance before he's closing his mouth tightly around that nub, sucking it a little bit before he repeats the motion.

She takes a sharp intake of breath and bangs her tightly closed fists over the table the moment he bites gently at her entrance and pushes a finger into her.

In and out, in and out, and _God_ , if she wasn't this sensitive, if her body wasn't screaming for release, she would've handled this quite differently.

But she's not, she's hot and bothered and incredibly horny, so instead she hits the desk over and over again just as his tongue keeps flickering over her clit.

"God, Regina!" Snow sprints towards her and Regina simply shakes her head rapidly, her breath coming out in pants as she tries to get her to stop walking closer to here to no avail.

Snow is getting close

Regina is getting incredibly _closer_

And Robin is feeling incredibly kinky so he keeps his ministrations, just as he hears Snow behind him (the front part of the desk being the only thing that prevents her for seeing him).

He keeps licking, and biting and pushing one, two, three fingers into her, enjoying how she tries to keep control, how she tries to aid the situation when Snow keeps saying things about how she needs to go to the hospital, how she's sick and needs to take much better care of herself.

And Regina is on the verge of frying Snow right there just so she can come freely, scream her love for this man and _feel_ , just feel the waves of pleasures throughout her whole body.

"That's it, I'm taking you to the hospital!" Snow decides after a second and Regina shakes her head quickly once again, her whole body overcome with feelings and emotions and she's getting dizzy, thinks she's about to faint when he nibbles, sucks and curls his fingers just _right,_ the pad of them brushing over that fucking spot inside of her.

She's gonna come.

She's gonna come with Snow standing two feet in front of her thinking that she's sick. But there's no stoping this, no stoping this pleasure that's building up.

Regina's arching her back suddenly, pushing her sex straight to his awaiting mouth and just screams out in pleasure, her whole body shaking and quaking, his mouth busy on her as he licks and licks and pulls her down to earth.

"Oh my God," Snow says.

But Regina's seeing stars, her body still trembling with aftershocks as he licks her clean.

A few moments go by where the only sounds in her office were her pants of breaths and Robin's softer ones under the desk.

Snow is rooted to the floor, her legs unable to carry her out the door as her eyes just travel to those curtains behind Regina. Trying to see anything but her former stepmother, former archenemy, mother of her grandson, godmother of her son, coming down from _that_ high.

Healthy as a dog.

Fucked as one too.

"Snow," Regina softly calls to her after a minute, she swallows hard, her cheeks tinting deep crimson —nothing to do with the fucking orgasm she just had— before she clears her throat and says, "can you keep a secret?"

But does it really matter, though? After all, she does know how to make an effective memory potion —which she'll definitely use, given the fact that she just _came_ in front of her.

Damn Robin.

Damn him.

He's gonna pay.

Good Lord, she's gonna making him pay big time.

So when Snow nods and leaves her office without blinking, Regina sighs and rests her head against her desk in embarrassment, his fingers tracing small circles on her hips as he starts chuckling loudly at what just happened. Regina simply shakes her and bites her lower lip, playfully kicks him under her desk and makes a mental note to stop by her vault later that day.

"I'm gonna make you pay for that."

"I was counting on it."

* * *

 _Thoughts?_


	3. Choices Made in The Underworld

Title: Choices Made in The Underworld

Rated: T

A/N:Those who know me know that _J'adore_ tragedy, so, I'm sorry for this. Don't know where it came from, but am grateful that Cora won't (apparently) be a bitch in the Underworld so yay —but, warning, she's a bitch here. Let it be known that I'm just doing some crazy writing because: 1) I'm bored out of my mind, and 2) I'm channeling my inner Adam. So this is basically plotless angst? But inspired by the whole Underworld arc. Hope you enjoy even though it's a bit on the sad side?

 **Warnings** : **Major character death ** :(

* * *

She shouldn't have trusted her mother when she arrived here. She shouldn't have fallen for her pretty smile and promising hugs because it all led to this moment. This moment with Regina feelings once again the overwhelming betrayal and manipulation of her mother.

He's blue.

Cora is talking, wide eyed and smirking as she once again thinks, _is_ convinced that what she's doing is the right thing for her daughter. But Regina's pretty sure she's begging her once again, yelling at her, kneels in front of her to make this end, stop this, this is madness.

But he's blue.

He's blue and spit is coming out his mouth, tears rolling down his face as he tries with his all to inhale, to _breathe_.

Cora is talking in front of her again, murmuring how pathetic she looks begging for a man's life, how idiotic of her to fall in love when they both know all too well that _love is weakness._ Because where did it get her? _Where did it get you Regina? He trampled all over you. He left you alone. He got over you. He fucked your sister and got her pregnant, Regina. Why, just why are you begging for his life when he's the sole reason yours go destroyed? Your happy ending damped with darkness and the presence of a baby your pathetic ass will take care of._

But Regina cannot hear her, refuses to because right this moment the _only_ thing that matters, the _only_ person that matters is Robin.

Robin floating above the ground with an invisible force, hands unmoving by his side, veins in his neck enlarged, being choked by an invisible force and he's staring directly at her, tears running down his eyes at her mother's words, the sting of them filling him with guilt and pain even when he's moments away from his death.

And he's blue.

He's blue and his eyes are closing, and Regina needs to act now. Now, because he has two kids back in Storybooke, two innocents who she _refuses_ to leave fatherless.

So she plunges her hand into her chest and yelps as she pulls out the once black organ.

This is it.

This is the only way she can save _him_ , she can save _them_ from her mother's wrath. Because Regina knows full well that the only reason why her mother is here, in the Underworld, is because of the unfinished business they have. And once she dies, once she _leaves_ she's sure her mother will also vanish from this place, perhaps burn in hell along with her.

"Let him go," Regina warns, her heart glowing brightly in her hand, eyes staring at Robin as her mother loosens her grip on his neck momentarily, enough for him to take a small breath of air.

But it doesn't last, because soon Cora's grip tightens around his neck with more force than before, and he's once again _blue_.

"Quit being a petulant child, we both know you're not capable of doing this."

And Regina's openly sobbing now, knowing that it's now or never. Her eyes fall from Robin to her hand, heart beating frantically in her grasp as she starts squeezing the organ.

And it hurts.

 _Everything_ hurts.

There's a scorching heat around her whole chest and she's gasping for air, looking down at the still beating organ in her hand. She cries harder now, knowing full well that the hardest decision of her entire life is at this moment.

To live and lose Robin _and_ herself in the process.

To die and give Robin the opportunity to see his kids grow. See his kids grow like she did with Henry.

 _Henry_.

Henry who will never forgive her for doing this.

Henry who will suffer for not having his mother around.

Henry, who has Emma and the two idiots.

Henry who will miss her.

Henry who she hopes understand that she's doing this for _them_ , all of them, especially for two little kids who desperately need some semblance of normality in their lives.

And besides, one of the group needed to die if the wanted to bring Hook back? Right? One soul for another. It's what her mother had said, it's what her father had said, and they knew back then, God, they knew that the responsibility would fall on her shoulders.

But she's saving Robin, she's saving Roland and little Rose _years_ of heartache, saving them from being orphans, and if she saves the one-handed pirate in the process then it's a plus.

So it's worth it, right?

And suddenly the tears stop, as do the sobs and she looks at Robin straight in the eyes, and whispers an _I love you._

Their first and their last. Because whilst he may try to save her, they both know that it's impossible. Dying _in_ the Underworld has consequences. So no true love's kiss, no sharing hearts, no _nothing_. Nothing will save her from this. Nothing brings back the death down here.

Because whilst dead may be _partial_ in Storybrooke, down here it's _final_.

But she's determined, albeit scared.

But her mother squeezes his neck a little harder, and it's now or never, so she sends a quick _I'm sorry_ to Robin and sends up a prayer for Henry before she squeezes her hand hard around the organ.

The pain is blinding, the tears gathering in her eyes quickly, and Robin is blurry, can barely see his silhouette.

He's blurry, but she can hear him gurgle her name, can hear the tears in his voice, almost as if he's begging, but he doesn't understand, will never understand that _her_ sacrifice has just given him _his_ family, _his_ kids, has just cemented the fact that _no one_ will threaten them again, no one from _her_ past or _her_ present will hurt _them_ again.

Regina can hear him take a deep breath, hears him cough but the darkness is pulling her, her glassy eyes no longer seeing, her body swaying forward, her lungs not working as the heart in her hand turns to dust.

..:::..

He feels it.

From the moment that idea loops around her head to the moment she falls to the floor.

He feels _everything_.

The excruciating pain, the scorching pressure around his heart, the sudden determination in her, and he gurgles her name, trying to get her attention, but God, nothing is happening.

Except it is.

She's whispering her love to him, and he wants to yell it back, wants to scream at the top of his lungs but he can't. _He can't_ , and instead what comes out his mouth is _another fucking_ gurgle.

And then she's whispering how sorry she is and she's crying and no, she cannot do this, she shouldn't do this! But just as he's about to yell at her, she squeezes harder, closing her fist tightly around her heart. The organ in her hand grows in brightness and Robin gurgles again, tries to call her name, tries to do something, _anything_ that will prevent her from doing this to herself.

To _them_.

But then there's a sharp pain inside him, the invisible force on his neck disappearing almost on cue, and he falls to the floor with a loud _thud_.

Robin gasps and coughs, takes deep breaths after deep breaths, and it fucking hurts. His heart aches, his lungs hurt like hell, yet none of that matters. None of that matters because he saw _her_ , saw _her_ body leaning forward at the same time _his_ body fell to floor.

He's choking on air now, or sobs? He does not know. All he knows is that he's standing abruptly, a wave of dizziness hitting him and he coughs for the umpteenth time.

He's disoriented, eyes blurry as he calls _her_ name.

But there isn't an answer.

He's only met by the annoying ringing in his ears.

And then his vision clears, and he sees _her_.

Sprawled over the floor, hand stretched out filled with the dusty remnants of her once red beating heart.

"No," he whispers, breath ragging eyes welling up with tears, and he runs to her, ignoring the pain that stabs through his lungs at the sudden movement. His legs are trembling, his heart is aching and God, this can't be happening. They were supposed to come here to save Hook and then go back home! Not this. Oh definitely not this!

He's pretty sure he's yelling her name, pretty sure that in his desperation he slips and falls before reaching her.

And Gods, she's not moving, she's not breathing, she's she's—

No

He refuses to say the word, and instead kneels beside her much too still form and turns her over at the same time a tear falls from him.

She's pale, her once olive skin holding some gray undertones and it kills him, it stabs through his heart and God, he needs to hear her one last time, needs to see those beautiful eyes gazing at him once again.

"Regina!" Robin yells, desperation written in every movement as he hooks one arm under her back and the other over her torso. He pulls her much too heavy form to his lap in a desperate movement, sobs starting to wrack his body as her head droops with every movement he makes.

He grabs her head then and calls her name again, louder this time, and he places one hand on her cheek, only to sob harder at the coldness that meets his touch.

"Please, don't leave us," he begs, fat tears rolling down his cheek as he shakes her for the umpteenth time. "I love you," he whispers against her forehead. "I love you," he says again more fervently and he presses his forehead to hers, sobbing as his arms pull her body even closer to his.

He breathes in her scent, feeling as something inside of him cracks as he mutters, "I'm sorry," and tucks her head into the crook of his neck.

Grief suffocating him as he starts rocking from side to side.

* * *

 _Well damn._

 _Signed,_

 _Cruella._


	4. Moments

**Title:** Moments

 ** _Rated:_** _T_

 **A/N:** Happy Valentine's Day! This is my Valentine's Day gift to Laura ( **Lala-Kate** )! She asked for something tender (either between OQ or family). Laura, God, I adore you and everything you write, and the fact that I got you as my giftee both excites and scares the hell out of me! Let's see how I put this, I'm a huge fan of all of your stories, you're simply my favorite writer and well I hope you enjoy this! Also, shoutout to the girls who organized this! Especially Lisa who knew I would freak out with my giftee.

* * *

It's moments like _this_ the ones that fill her with a warmth that, many years ago, she thought she'd never have.

These moments comfort her, make her realize that all the pain she'd constantly gone through in the past has been worth it in the end.

It's simple things. Sometimes it's just the sight of her children on the kitchen table, their corner stripped of the decor but filled with scattered papers and notebooks as two of them work on their homework and the youngest works on the next drawing they'll hang on the fridge. On those days, when she walks into the quiet house, their focus entirely on their task, she offers her husband a small smile from her spot and clears her throat to get their kids' attention, only to break into laughter as she hugs and kisses each and one of them, even her seventeen year old son.

Sometimes, it's the sight of her husband all sweaty and incredibly attractive as he fixes a broken pipe under the sink, or him all clean and put together as he walks with her hand in hand down the streets of Storybrooke for a night out.

Other times it's the intense feeling of him hovering over her. His taste, his scent and his touch igniting her entire body, his length pushing into her over and over as he kisses her senseless and pours all his love into his action; a small suck on the sensitive skin of her nipple, a deep kiss at the same time he thrusts into her. On those nights she counts her lucky stars, but also counts the times he makes her lose all sense of time and place, falling and falling and _falling_ over the edge with a mere brush of his fingers, or a swipe of his tongue, or the guttural proclamations of his love as they both race for release.

There are times though, when he professes his love in different ways.

Sometimes it's something as simple as giving her time to herself whenever the week becomes too stressful. He gives her an hour or so that she can spend unwinding from the day's events and the stress that comes from being a mother of three, three people with three different personalities yet the same stubbornness characteristic of _her_.

On those days, he leaves her with a soft kiss on her lips, and a much too silent house, allowing her to catch either a much needed rest, or to curl up on the couch with a cup of coffee she can _truly_ enjoy. Regina won't tell him though, that on those days, even though she needs the break and appreciates it, she also misses the laughter that more often than not fills their household, the shrieks and loud calls of ' _Momma!_ ' that tug at her insides every time one of her kids utters it. Yet she's grateful for the hour she gets to spend alone, and shows him just how grateful she is every time -the reason, she believes, her husband gives her these days constantly.

Other times, he shows her his appreciation by preparing her a bath, pouring all sorts of oils and salts into the warm water and even goes the extra mile by lighting a few candles. Those days, he helps rid her of her clothes and holds her hand as she lowers herself into the water. He remains put together, just stares at her from his place, always the gentleman, until she teases him with innocent eyes and a wandering hand down her body, and more often than not, he finds himself joining her for a soak and a few moments alone.

Yet nothing compares to _this_ moment right now. To having all of her family in the same room, close to her.

Her boys have all fallen asleep around her, low unsynchronized snores filling the family room as the movie plays in the background. Her daughter had chosen _Maleficent_ that night , a movie she finds absolutely beautiful despite the inconsistencies it has with keeping true to Mal's reality. But Rosemary loves it, loves the relationship that develops between Maleficent and this child, how the hate, brought by nothing but heartache, morphed into something so beautiful and _true_ between them.

And it's a reminder of _them_ , of how four years ago Regina couldn't even look at the kid now in her arms, afraid of loathing her, afraid she'd remind her of her estranged sister's wicked ways, her revenge, the heartbreak that had caused both Robin and her.

.:.

 _The desperate knocks against the door in the wee hours of the night alarm Regina. She sighs under the covers, wanting nothing more than to ignore whoever is at the door at this hour. Yet living in Storybrooke, a town where a new villain appears every two hours, she can't ignore the incessant knocks. So on a grumble, Regina pushes the covers off of her and gets up from the bed. But as she moves down the stairs, the knocks grow in desperation, and as she walks closer and closer to the door, the knocks are accompanied by an infant's cry and she stops mid-step, the wails sending a jolt of pain so deep that for a minute she forgets how to breathe, how to move._

 _But then the calls of her name travel from the other side of her door, followed by desperate fearful sobs she knows belongs to her sister._

 _She isn't ready for this._

 _It's exactly what held her back from even looking at her when she'd been born; the utter fear of having even the slightest trace of resent for this innocent child. Sure, they'd talked this through, her and Robin, she'd expressed her fears, her concerns, and he'd expressed his understanding and his love. They'd agreed, months ago, to take things slow, he'd go back to his camp and she'd stay here as they work around their issues slowly. But she needs him right now, needs him right next to her as she opens the front door, because that utter sense of dread is back, of doubts, of heartache._

 _She isn't ready for this, for her._

 _Yet when Zelena cries desperately at her from the porch, and pushes the wailing babe into her numb arms, Regina cannot help but sneak a glimpse down at the two week old baby. Zelena yells some nonsense in front of her that she can't really understand for her senses are focused entirely on the baby in her arms._

 _She's all blotchy, red and sweaty in her arms, small traces of, what Regina can assume is puke, on her clothes, and that, combined with the little cries that leave her much too tiny, much too warm body are enough to push Regina's fears to the back of her head, her dread, her doubts all forgotten as she focuses on helping this crying babe._

 _Zelena's still crying, now louder than her own daughter, lost in a whirlwind of self-pity and self-hate, begging for forgiveness, going on a rampage about how she's already ruining her daughter's life, about how she's the same as their mother. But Regina doesn't have it in her to comfort the reason why this baby succumbs into a restless sleep in her arms, instead with a wave of her hand, her porch transforms into Storybrooke's General Hospital as the traces of purple fog leave their bodies._

 _She's not ready for this._

 _But when Zelena's nowhere to be found, and Robin's on his way from the camp, she pretends she_ is _._

 _Regina reaches for the small soft hand, caresses the back of it with her thumb to offer some sort of comfort as Doctor Whale brings his stethoscope to her chest. The two week old babe is restless, soft cries leaving her tiny body until Robin arrives._

 _She tells herself that she's not ready for this, for her, yet she feels a pang of something she's felt before with Henry and Roland_ _the moment she moves to the side to let her lover comfort his wailing child._

 _She's not ready for this._

 _But when the child's cries abate a few hours later, and she dozes off into an exhausted sleep, Regina brings her arms around Robin's torso and comforts his battered heart and her own._

 _She's not ready for this._

 _But when Rosemary gets cleared out of the hospital, her gastroenteritis gone, Regina suggests they stay at her house._

 _She's not ready for this, but when the two month old yawns after finishing her bottle, her insides warm up with the love she wants, no,_ needs _to give her, and when Regina cradles her against her chest, Rose's head searches the warmth of her breasts. And it's exactly at that moment, when she hums to the sweet little babe nestled oh so perfectly in her arms, Robin's hand softly rubbing her back, that Regina realizes she's never been more ready for something like she is for this, for_ her _._

.:.

"Momma?" The little girl asks from her side, pulling her from her memories.

Regina looks down at her, a smile playing upon her own face as she sees the little girl snuggle closer to her side and let out a content sigh.

"What?" Regina asks, lowly, a smile upon her face.

"I love you," the four year old tells her, and Regina's heart does flip flops like it always does whenever her kids utter those words.

"Well, I love you more," she whispers to her before she leans down and drops a kiss to the top of her head, then diverts her attention to the movie again as her daughter does the same.

And to think she'd considered saying no to this life, the pain and sense of utter betrayal much too strong back then.

But if she had, she wouldn't have this, her daughter by _choice_ , cuddling closer to her side and her own hands playing with the strands of her fiery locks.

If she had, she wouldn't get to hear her giggle at one particular snore from her father, jumping in fear at the sudden sound only to curl into her side, trying to hide her laughter.

If she had, she wouldn't have her husband cuddling to her side and dropping a kiss to her neck, only to snore dramatically to get their daughter to laugh again.

If she had, she wouldn't get to feel her daughter hug her tighter the moment true love's kiss wakes the teenager from her dead-like sleep on the movie.

If Regina had given into her fears, if she had given into her pain, she wouldn't get to have these simple moments in her life, moments that fill her with a love and warmth that, many years ago, she thought she'd never have.


	5. Midnight snack

For the **OQPromptParty**

 **Prompt #197** : Midnight snack.

 **OQ AU**. Just a fun little thing. Humongous thanks to amazing Eva who read through it and gave little ol' me the thumbs up. You rock! A tad smutty (just a _**little**_ bit).

* * *

Normally she lets it go.

After all, she's used to the sounds coming from next door. She's used to the high pitched moans followed by the slight howl from her neighbor as he reaches oblivion. To the constant _bumps_ against her bedroom door as he fucks relentlessly his new victim.

Ah, the glorious consequences of paper thin walls.

But she's used to it.

Just like she's used to bumping into him every other day.

It's no wonder, though, that he has sex nearly everyday. He's an absolute marvel. Five feet nine inches of pure perfection with his blue eyes, dimpled smile and sandy blonde hair. A truly gorgeous specimen brought to life just for those around him to gawk at him, and of course, for the _lucky_ ladies to feast on.

Robin Locksley, that's his name. A biochemistry graduate student with a love for the molecular aspect of things. At least, that's what she knows of him from their short walks up the stairs to the third floor of their apartment complex, only to part with a small smile and a wave as they get into their respective flats.

She sees him sometimes, when she's leaving her dorm, sees him picking up the newspaper, bare chested, mug in hand as he throws a small smile her way followed by a ' _Good morning_ ' before slipping inside again to, obviously, ravage the pretty little blondes she sees walking out his flat late afternoon.

Sometimes, when she's feeling lonely and incredibly _needy_ , she imagines he grunts _just_ for her. Imagines his hands roaming her body, hers scratching the planes of the chest she sees almost daily. Imagines his lips attached to her neck as his cock slowly but surely fills her, fucks her, imagines his voice all deep and guttural telling her to ' _Come for me, baby_ ' in that deep accent of his at the same time he circles his hips and moves his thumb up and down against her clit, driving her closer and closer and _closer_ to the edge until she's coming apart in her own fingers, just in time for that howl to reach her ears from the room to her left.

Normally she lets it go.

Normally she goes with the flow.

But tonight she needs to study, she needs to read countless of papers, countless of pages, memorize so many things for a test two days from tonight and she can't do it! Not with the fucking _bump, bum_ p, bump against the wall of her bedroom (clearly from a bed). Not with the constant yelling from a five feet seven inches long legged blonde with an itty bitty waist that she'll get to see leave that flat tomorrow afternoon. Not with his fucking moans and groans and way too lewd sounds traveling to her ears.

Not when he'd struck small conversation with her on the way up the stairs yesterday. Not when he'd made her laugh and chuckle and quite possibly made her realize she actually had a crush on him, finding him incredibly smart and overall just insanely attractive.

Until tonight.

It isn't even that she's jealous (maybe a little bit?). It's the fact that it's _not_ fair he gets to have so much fun, gets to be a playboy at night and yet have deep intellectual conversations with her, allowing her to crush on him, hard, allowing her to want to get fucked by him as hard as he fucks his blondes, but knowing he'll never do so. She's not his type, clearly. She's a five foot three short legged athletic figure with a barely-there waist he'd rather have a conversation with rather than a kiss —granted, she has an incredible ass, and incredible thighs, but so far, everybody notices _except_ him. (Does she want him to notice? Is she truly that desperate?)

So, normally she lets it go.

But not tonight.

So, when the woman moans like a cat in heat, Regina closes her book with a huff and stands up from her desk chair.

"Incredible!" She lets out frustrated, not bothering to put some shoes on (hide the fact that she's wearing mismatched socks), and walks out of her apartment.

She huffs and stomps the six steps to his front door, the sexual sounds barely audible in the hall (her bedroom is next to one of his, how lucky is she?) and knocks on his front door loudly, the four bangs against it reverberating around the third floor.

But he doesn't answer.

She scoffs and groans out loud when the sounds grow in pitch and frequency and she's able to hear them (though a bit low) from outside his door and knocks again, six times, now hammering against it annoyed at being ignored. And he still doesn't answer.

"Really?!" She lets out in frustration, rolling her eyes and stomping back to her flat when no one opens the door, hoping him and model number forty five would stop soon enough.

And they do, they finish somewhere around eleven thirty.

And though annoyed and yes, a little bit jealous (she is after all trying to study for her Cellular & Molecular Immunology test instead of getting blissfully and thoroughly fucked by her hot British neighbor) Regina still manages to sigh in relief at the stillness and quietness in the atmosphere.

Finally!

For forty minutes she's able to review the molecular structure of MHC and is about to delve into lymphocytes development when it starts again.

The slight slow _bump bump bump_ against her bedroom wall.

The incessant moaning of long-legged Miss Playboy.

Jesus Christ, haven't they had enough? Because _she_ has!

This time she doesn't wait a second before she's rushing past her front door again, incessantly knocking on his apartment door, annoyed and incredibly frustrated, feeling the rage in her growing. She's about to call his name, loudly, when someone taps her shoulder and she jumps in surprise, quickly turning around to look at the intruder. Only to be shocked again at the fact that the five feet nine inches of pure perfection named Robin Locksley stands in front of her.

"Paper thin walls?" He asks in that accent of his, signaling to the door behind her.

Wait, wait, wait, there's clearly been a mistake. No, five feet nine inches dude should be the one behind the door, banging the blonde, grunting and howling. It should be him, it's him.

It's _not_ him?

"I thought you were—" she stops herself mid sentence, realizing way too late of how it sounds —clearly not as good as it did in her head. But before she can open her mouth again to say another thing (clear off any implications that she's heard this every few nights per week and has come to the most logical conclusion in her head) Robin's laughing loudly at her words, eyes lightening up, amused. She's suddenly frozen in place, no words able to come out of her, is only able to stare at him as he laughs at her, the heat rising to her cheeks.

Nice Regina, not embarrassing at all.

Not at all.

But it's amusing really, his laughter, so she she cracks a smile at him until she's chuckling too and staring down at the hardwood floors. Mistake, for, she realizes then how attractive she must look with mismatched fluffy socks (one with monkeys on them and the other with clouds), worn down sweatpants of her alma mater, a thin camisole (well he won't actually complain about that, that is, if he enjoys small tits at all), and the fucking eyeglasses she uses to read. God, a truly magnificent creature.

Regina rolls her eyes at herself, damning the fact that he gets to see her like _this_ when he's looking all attractive.

Just then a low moan can be heard coming from his apartment door and Robin groans in front of her and shakes his head.

"I've told John to be quiet over and over again," Robin says, grimacing at the annoyed look Regina suddenly throws his way. "I'm sorry."

She sighs and then nods at him with a roll of her eyes. Of course, it's John, John, his roommate, John the incredibly tall shy guy that barely talks, just smiles at everything and everyone—

No, not sweet kind shy John!

Has she actually gotten off to the sounds of him?

No. No? Right? It can't, she can't.

"It's not your fault," she whispers at him, tentatively, lost to her own thoughts. Has she come to the wrong conclusions in the past three months she's lived here?

"Still," he shrugs and embarrassedly scratches the back of his head. "Let me make this right for you."

Oh

Oh?

Is he actually going to—

"Mind going out for _one_ drink?"

God, how long has it been since she's been asked out?

"I don't drink on weekdays," she says apologetically and then bites the inside of her cheek, suddenly annoyed at herself. She shouldn't be playing hard to get, not when she looks so unkept and probably has that vein creasing on her forehead because of stress, dark circles under her eyes and fucking mismatched socks while he's looking like a four course meal with legs. But she's honestly thrown back by it and maybe even nervous by the fact that five feet nine inches of perfection is actually asking her out for a drink.

But he merely nods, and gives her a lopsided smile, the dimples ever present before giving her a determined look. "Okay well, mind going out for a bite?"

She cracks a smile at that, her stomach fluttering, and bites her lower lip before she's looking up at him again, sheepishly.

Damn his kind blue eyes, his handsome self. Damn him.

"I have to study," she whispers. She doesn't actually, well, she does, her test is two days from now but she can spare a few hours tonight and then make a maximum effort tomorrow, right?

"Oh yeah, that darn immunology course." He grimaces, recalling the conversation they had yesterday on their way here. The man nods and swallows hard, and Regina feels bad for turning him down a second time in less than a minute.

But instead of uttering an actual apology, she gives him an apologetic smile.

It goes quiet for a few seconds and Regina's sure, so so sure he'll wave her off and wish her good luck and that's it. But instead—

"Well," he smirks and shrugs, clears his throat before he's nodding to the door behind her once again. "Mind going somewhere quiet then? To study?"

Regina offers him a small deep laugh, the kind that she hates but can't stop herself from doing so, and he takes that as a green light.

"You also have to eat a little something if you want to stay up till morning studying," he finishes, matter of factly, offering her an amused smile.

And his smile is contagious, his amusement too and Regina finds herself chuckling at him, shaking her head before nodding.

"Let me get my things."


	6. Life

Hey! This is my submission for Day 2 (Tuesday) of the **OQ Prompt Party**.

Prompt: | **9** | _"Robin and Regina used to date/were married. They're no longer together but still love one another."_

 _Trigger warnings_ : Brief, brief, super brief mention of miscarriage :(

Side note: _Sweet Child O' Mine_ by Taken By Trees (cover), helped me give birth to this one, i sincerely don't know why. But thought y'all should know.

* * *

"Do you ever think back on that night?" Robin asks from his place next to her as they begin walking down the pier.

There had been many nights in their marriage. Happy nights. Grieving nights. She supposes, though, that he means _that_ particular night. The one where they screamed at each other, and they had never screamed like that before, they had never disrespected each other like that before.

It had ended with him packing his things, and her not feeling an ounce of regret.

Regina nods quietly, but keeps on walking right next to him, sighing softly.

It's three am, there's nobody out and it's her last day on her hometown. Sure, she should be packing Henry's stuff along with hers and probably catching a few hours of rest, but then again, they haven't truly had a chance to _be,_ just _be._ After all, it's been fifteen years. Fifteen years during which neither spoke a word to one another, just came sort of into a mutual understanding.

"I think about it almost every day," he confesses on a low voice after a moment of silence as they come to a stop at the end of the pier, the sound of the waves softly hitting the wood the only sound in the summer air.

"Yeah," she replies simply, her thumb, absentmindedly going to play with the non-existent ring on her finger.

He sighs after a moment and shakes his head. "I love my wife and my kid, Regina. I love them so much I would die for them."

And she understands.

She understands the confusion and the slight shame, because she had felt the same with Daniel. She loved him, deeply, truly. But one simply doesn't forget their first love, particularly when both Robin and Regina had felt like they were _meant_ to be. Destined to be together. Ah, life.

"But there's a small part of me that wonders how it would've been like if I had just stayed," he confesses softly, eyes gazing straight ahead.

Regina sighs at that and nods at him, also staring at the expanse sea in front of her.

And she could roll her eyes and laugh loudly at the spot they find themselves in. The same place he'd proposed twenty years ago. When they both had been eighteen and madly, _madly_ in love. As expected, she doesn't feel that slight ache at the memories, instead she welcomes them with open arms. They've grown up. They've grown wiser. They understand the way life works. The way marriages work.

But still, she thinks back on their past. Marriage had been done quickly. They had been inexperienced with the harsh realities of the world, the sometimes strenuous work that marriage required, and it had quickly dissolved, with her moving away a few weeks after their separation.

They could point fingers all night long, but it won't get them anywhere because they _know_ , they know they _each_ had their faults. _He_ should've been supportive. _She_ should've been understanding. _He_ shouldn't have walked out. _She_ shouldn't have left her mouth get ahead of her. _They_ shouldn't have shut out each other after losing a baby. _They_ should've talked more instead on relying entirely on sex for intimacy. And more and more and more. But they had been young, young and stupid and so in love, yet so easily offended. Schedules conflicted. Plans changed constantly. Studies got harder with every passing year. Stress. Stress. So much stress. No communication. And soon enough they had separated, divorced and became estranged lovers.

Until a week ago, when she returned for her mother's 65th birthday and she'd bumped into him at Granny's.

She chuckles lightly at the memory, because Granny's breath had hitched behind the counter, and everybody had been expecting for them to lash out at each other. But it's been 15 year, and they've matured, they've grown up. So instead of lashing out, instead of the fight that half of Maine had been expecting, Robin and Regina had smiled kindly at each other, engaging in a short conversation that had confused the citizens of Storybrooke.

Regina shakes her head and swallows hard. "Yeah well, I wasn't that easy to get along with," she says on a shrug, trying to lighten to mood, only to smirk in relief when she hears him chuckling softly to her right.

"Still," he whispers after a quiet moment and shakes his head. "I should've stayed."

"Maybe," Regina replies as she turns to face him, because there's really nothing else to say. It doesn't change anything _now_. He's married and a father. She's still a grieving widow and a mother. They've already healed those wounds, thankfully. So there's really no point, there's no point in dwelling in the past when it's exactly _that_ past what molded them into the person they are _today_.

It's life, real life, and life isn't like the movies. It doesn't end with her riding off on a motorcycle during sundown with the greatest love of her life.

No

Real life is _this_.

It's having to tell your greatest love that maybe, just maybe, _this_ is what destiny had planned for them all along. That maybe they were just meant to be a chapter in each other's life, not an entire storyline. That maybe their fate was to _meet_ , but not to be together. That whilst they are soulmates —because they are, she can feel that down to her very bones, they _aren't_ life partners.

After all, they owe who they are right now to one another.

Because if Robin hadn't walked into that chemistry lab at the young age of 16, precisely at 8:53am, she would've probably gotten another lab partner who would've made her dread going into the lab, instead of him, the one who stared at her as she smiled brightly at the chemical reaction taking place, the one who wholeheartedly supported her decision to become a chemist. And if _she_ hadn't walked into his room on an early Saturday morning to review their notes for their upcoming exam, she wouldn't have seen him play the guitar, wouldn't have been able to build up his confidence, let go of his fears, ultimately pushing him to pursue his studies in music.

It's life.

It's real, it's strange, and it certainly works in mysterious ways.

"I still wouldn't change it for the world," she shrugs after a few minutes of comfortable silence, of contemplating their life. And when Robin turns to face her, an understanding smile on his face, she continues. "I wouldn't have had Henry," she whispers, smiling brightly, her eyes shining with tears at the thought of her very resilient and loving ten year old. "And you wouldn't have had Roland," she finishes on a chuckle, smiling warmly at the thought of the sweet and energetic five year old she met earlier that week.

He smiles brightly at her at that, eyes shining with unshed tears too as he nods and chuckles lightly.

"So I think we did pretty great for ourselves," she finishes after a moment, sniffling lightly before she wipes the corner of her eyes, still smiling brightly.

"Yeah," he agrees, grinning. "Not too shabby," he replies in his typical fashion, eyes gazing at her in awe and love.

Because it _is_ love. She knows that, recognizes it from the very same love that vibrates within her. The one that is kind, the one that forgives, the love that _heals._

And here _they_ are, two ex lovers, soulmates, who have forgiven one another and have healed without even having to utter a word during those fifteen years.

It _is_ love.

Regina chuckles at him tearfully and nods.

They stay like that for a moment, gazing silently at one another before she's clearing her throat.

"I have to go. I still have to pack and check Henry's bag," she whispers after a moment with a shrug.

Robin swallows hard and nods from her side. "Of course," he says after swallowing hard and pushing his hands into his pockets.

And they just stare at one another for a few moments again.

Not talking.

Just staring, smiling kindly. And it's as if they're lost in their own trance. Their own little world. Their mind taking them back to kisses shared in this very same pier. To saying _yes_ excitedly not knowing what it would mean for them. To cuddles. To weekend studies. To the many adventures they shared while they were together. To positive pregnancy tests. To losses. To gains. To their life as it is right now. Not too shabby.

Regina sighs after a moment, shakes her head before she lays a gentle palm on his cheek, tracing lightly that slight dimple as she smiles brightly, eyes still shining with unshed tears and that undying love.

Slowly she pushes herself up to her tiptoes and leans in slowly. He leans forward almost instantly and meets her halfway, both sighing when their lips meet after years, oh, so many years. She slowly angled her head to the side, allowing for their lips to meet more firmly as she kisses him slowly, oh so slowly, the mere action bringing her back to simpler times. Back to when their naive selves thought that kissing could solve everything. Back to stolen kisses in her family home's patio. Back to hushed kisses in his room, while his family cooked downstairs. Back to their first kiss as husband and wife, in front of ecstatic family members that _whooped_ and _hoorayed_ for the newlyweds.

They part for breath when their lungs burn for oxygen, foreheads touching, his palm still on his cheek as they share the same breathing space for a moment, just a moment before they have to go back to real life. But they're kissing again, softly this time, a simple pressing of lips before they lean in even closer, lips meeting more firmly because _this_ is it, this is the last time.

And when she breaks the kiss on a sigh, thumb still tracing his dimple, he smiles at her and cracks open his eyes.

"I love you, Regina Mills," Robin utters, a secret whispered in the night only for her ears.

"I love you, Robin Locksley," she whispers too, smiling.

"Please take care," Robin says on a sigh after a moment, a small tear falling from his eye, but he quickly brushes it away as he takes half a step back.

"I will," she whispers, wiping the corner of her eyes.

They just stare at one another, smiling sadly and nodding, the waves crashing softly in the background, and then she's taking a step back, whispers her goodbye on a soft breath before turning to walk down the pier and to the direction of her family's home.

She doesn't once turn around, because she knows, deep in her heart, that he's facing the horizon, waiting for _his_ moment to walk down the pier and head the opposite direction, to his wife and kid, just like she's walking down to her kid and life.

Life

And she cannot help but smile to the heavens, letting out a grateful breath of having had at least _this_ opportunity with the man who will go down in history as the greatest love of her _life_ , her soulmate, just as _she_ is _his_.

Life


	7. My Best Friend 'R'

Day 3 (Wednesday) of OQ Prompt Party!

Prompt: #201| "Regina tells Robin that she saw his girlfriend cheating on him"

A/N: Firstly, this is kind of what happens after Regina tells him that his girlfriend cheated on him. Secondly, one of these days I'll stop writing Regina and Robin as best friends... but today's not one of those days. There will be a part two coming with Day 4 of OQPP!

* * *

It's _their_ place and theirs alone.

A small little clearing deep in the woods with logs set up and a small fire pit in the middle; _theirs._ He didn't take any of his girlfriends there, just like she didn't take anybody. It's the place where they each go to breathe, to relax, to be one with nature, the air and that small spring a mile out east.

They'd stumbled upon that small clearing a couple of years ago, when they both had been fifteen and had started hiking through the woods, already gotten bored with spending their days either at his place or hers. Monotonous. Life had become monotonous for Robin of Locksley... even at the young age of fifteen.

So he had suggested a walk through the woods, something different, and fun, leaving behind marks as to easily trace their way back into the main road. And they'd found it, a small clearing just fifteen minutes in, dead trunks on the floor and a big boulder on the far right. That day they fixed the trunks as best as they could and sat for long hours until it was time to head back home. And ever since then, it'd become Robin and Regina's place to escape. Slowly they fixed it, cut down branches from the trunk, made a fire pit in front of log for those slightly chilly cold nights, and there's nothing special to it, nothing sort of homely to it, but still, it's _their_ place. Usually they go there together, with him wanting to write, given how obsessed he is with poetry, and her with the utter need to read outside an overly loud house.

So it had been quite obvious to her that he'd go _there_ instead of his house, her patio, or the much too boring docks where many of their high school friends choose to hang out at. Confidently, Regina walks along rough terrain, dead leaves, roots, mindful of the slightly heavy backpack she's carrying. She keeps walking down the path they familiar path, mindful of the _R_ marked on different trunks every ten trees, until she reaches the last R, the bigger one out of the twelve she'd seen already. Knowingly, Regina takes a left there, walks the _thirty-two_ steps, and then walks down the slight decline on the terrain stopping when she sees him.

Immediately her heart aches for him, her throat constricting for a moment.

She feels guilty, so so guilty because even though she's _not_ related to the issue _per se_ , she still collaborated to the drama unfolding today, ending with a very very worried Helga Locksley ringing her.

But there's no way in hell she could've kept that as a secret.

Not when Robin's the kindest man she knows. Not when he has been her best friend since they were six years old. Not when he has quite given Marian the world already even at their young age of 18, and she just didn't care. She couldn't keep _it_ as secret. Refused to, so even though _now_ she feels insanely guilty for having gone off at him so abruptly, for having told him that she had _seen,_ with her own eyes, _his_ girlfriend, his Marian, in the arms of another man two nights ago in the alley two blocks from Granny's, Regina's still, deep down, sure she made the right decision.

But still, he's her best friend, and as best friends it hurts her that _he's_ hurting. Especially when she knows just _how_ much he adored Marian. Knows he saw her as the woman he'll end up marrying down the road even though his mother didn't entirely like the woman. God.

She hurts for him, even more so now, when she looks at him from a couple of yards away and he looks so… different.

He's sitting on the log, staring at the distance as his fingers pull and pick apart a piece of bark in his hands. He pulls and breaks and drops the now small little pieces before he reaches for another one, and another one. On and on and on he goes until he shakes his head at himself and offers a dry chuckle to no one in particular. Different. This isn't him. This isn't _her_ Robin. The Robin who laughs at the bad things in life. The Robin who has the best advice for any situation, the man who's wise beyond his years, who can't stay still for one moment because _'The world's still spinning Regina and I want to live life to the fullest'._ Instead, there he is, sitting on a log fiddling with some bark.

Ignoring the small voice in her head that tells her she caused _this_ , Regina walks carefully towards him, slowly, the leaves crunching under her combat boots but Robin doesn't even turn to face her, he knows it's her, instead he keeps playing with the piece of bark in his hands. Sighing, Regina jumps quietly over the log and sits down next to him.

He doesn't say anything, instead reaches for a leave on the floor and starts picking it apart too. Quietly, Regina brings her backpack carefully to her front, placing it on the forest floor before she's opening the zipper of the bigger pocket.

"I ransacked my father's secret cabinet," she says as a greeting, pulling from her backpack a half drunk bottle of whiskey. "Of course I couldn't bring the ice because it would've melted, but you're a strong dude, you can handle this."

Robin cracks a smile at that, shakes his head before he's turning to look at her and Regina offers him a small smile, feeling relieved before she's biting her lower lip and arching a brow.

"I also got some… _edibles_ from Jefferson," she confesses with a shrug. "So in case you want them, they're _here_ ," she finishes patting slightly the front pocket.

He chuckles at that and shakes his head at her, eyes shining in appreciation. "I love you, you know that right?" Robin asks after a moment, smiling brightly at her.

Regina sighs in relief at that, her whole body becoming relaxed for a moment. "I do know that, though I must say, after you stormed out yesterday I thought that maybe—"

"Regina," he interrupts as he picks the bottle from her hands and places it carefully on the floor, before holding both of her hands, gaze meeting hers. "I love you _precisely_ for what you did yesterday," he utters, before his hand moves up to her cheek to gently push a strand of hair behind her ear.

Clearing her throat, Regina nods at him, feeling her eyes slightly burning with tears that appear out of nowhere. "I just wasn't sure," she confesses. "I knew as soon as I saw that you needed to know this. But I still felt… feel so guilty."

He chuckles at that, a small tearful thing before he's offering _her_ a small smile, dimples full on display.

"Don't," he mutters after a moment. "You have no reason to feel guilty. You did what friends do, and I appreciate that more than you could ever know."

She lets out a sigh of relief, before she shakes her head and slides closer to him on the log, hugging him gently.

"I'm still so sorry. You're the sweetest guy in all of Maine, _possibly_ the world, and I'm not saying this as your best friend, but Robin, you're the _last_ person who deserves this," she whispers against his neck, before she lets out a sigh and leans back, comfortably resting her head against his shoulder.

"Yes. But it's done, it's over," it's all he says as a reply, his voice filled both with anger and disappointment, yet she hears the slight relief there.

And that's good, that's very good.

She nods against his shoulder, just stares intently at her hand as it moves from his forearm down down down to his own own hand, caressing there. He turns his own after a moment, palms touching before he intertwines their fingers.

They stay like that for some quiet moments, just basking in the feeling of being.

"Think of the bright side," she murmurs after several minutes, in much his fashion, and chuckles slightly at herself before she changes her tone, a tone ten times higher almost childlike, a tone she knows amuses him to no end for it's the tone she uses to creep his mother out. "At least you still have your underage best friend who breaks the law by stealing her father's whiskey and carrying around edibles, only for it all to be completely ignored by you!"

He laughs loudly at that, her shaking in his embrace by the force of it, and he hugs her from the side, pulls her body closer to his absentmindedly before dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

For some reason, she feels herself getting lighter, happier, the guilt still present but now manageable because while yesterday she had gotten him upset, today she gets to make him laugh loudly even if it's only for a moment.

"Gods, I love you, woman," he whispers against her hair before sighing and moving his hand up and down her forearm. "Thank you."


End file.
